I Promise
by Cheersforale
Summary: Fred is tormented with confusing feelings about his brother, George. As he tries harder and harder to make the feelings go away, he begins to isolate himself from his own twin. Will they be able to remain brothers, or will they become something more?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Once again I have a new story! I have temporarily given up on the Remus x Sirius one because of poor planning, lack on inpiration, and an overwhelming hatred for the chapters that I had already written for that fanfic. Thus, I have started a new one and hopefully this one will work out a lot better. This is the first prologue/chapter sort of thing, just to give a taste of what this story might be like and to see if anyone likes it. A few reviews and I will try to get the second chapter up in a jiffy.

Note: Harry Potter, all of its elements, and all of its characters are the property of JK Rowling, I simply write fanfictions about them (though it would be absolutely lovely if I was the author of them. Then I would be the most successful author ever...-drools-)

The house was unrealistically empty, the image flickering as if it were a movie made with old film. The blacks and grays sunk into him, smothering all of the color from the scene, and the silence was a layer of thick wool holding in the noise. He stepped slowly through the house and listened as his usually quiet first steps echoed throughout the Burrow.

"Mum? Dad! Percy, Bill?" he called loudly, but the sounds seemed to be sucked up by the air itself, instantly disintegrating. The usually jovial, happy photographs on their walls were empty and replaced with blank picture frames, and the clock had only two hands. On one was a grinning ginger-haired boy that he recognized as himself, the other was much the same. Both of the hands pointed at home, and Fred looked around in search.

"George?"

A boyish giggle reached his ears from behind the stairs, and his head jerked around to try and catch sight of who had caused it. He saw a flash of fiery hair out of the corner of his eyes, and the patter of socked feet fleeing into the kitchen. He gave chase, rushing into the dining room, but he could not see George anywhere. A stack of envelopes tumbled from the coffee table at the other end of the room and they floated down onto the floor.

"George? George, come back!" he shouted. The sound of his own voice reverberated around him a thousand times, disorienting him. He scrambled clumsily across the first floor, but no matter how quickly he moved George always seemed to slip past into the other room just before he could get to him.

Up the stairs they ran and wind gusted at Fred's back as if urging him faster after the other boy. The door of their bedroom had been flung wide open when Fred reached the top of the stairs and he fled into it immediately. The door slammed loudly behind him, and suddenly the room dripped off around them like paint dripping down a wall. Fred and George were alone in a room with clear walls and the outside that he could see through them was dark. The room was freezing, leaving the two boys shivering violently. Moments later it was as if a furnace had been turned on and heat flooded the room, making the air sticky and humid. Fred's chest protested every time he lifted it to breath, and he could feel sweat soaking through his t-shirt. George flashed him an impish smile, his eyes sparkling delightfully. Slowly, one by one he began to remove every article of his clothing. Fred panted gruffly, trying to protest or tell George to put his clothes back on, but he could not move. He could not even look away, his eyes were glued to the image of his brother slowly becoming more and more visible to him. Just as George's underwear started to drop towards the floor, the world exploded.

Fred shot up in bed and gasped desperately for air, his head whipping back and forth to check and see if the clear, hot world would still be there even when he awoke. Relief flooded through him in a wave and he sighed loudly, flopping back onto his bed. His pajamas were soaked through in a clammy, cold sweat and it still felt as if his heart might fly out of his chest at any moment in time.

"What was that?" He whispered to himself, closing his eyes tightly in an attempt to escape the reality of the situation. He had just dreamed of his brother, his twin for Merlin's sake, giving him a bloody strip tease. With how strange the dream had been the strip tease may not have seemed that weird, but paired with the uncomfortable tightness he could feel in the front of his pants, he knew something was wrong.

Normal boys did not get hard-ons to the thought of their brother naked. Normal boys would be disgusted by the very thought, or laughing at the image of their own brother nude, and Fred knew he should want to throw up or cry or tease George relentlessly right now. The only thing he could feel the urge to do was jack off. His face crumpled pathetically and he buried his face into his palms as tears of frustration pooled in his eyes.

For weeks these dreams had plagued him nearly every night, each more confusing and painful to experience than the last. At first they had seemed silly, but with each one that passed the pining he felt for George grew stronger and stronger and he could not figure out how to make it go away. The sexual tension was beginning to kill him, and it was hard to face his brother knowing that only moments before he had been dreaming of his naked.

There was also the issues that there was absolutely no one he could go to talk about it, either. Incest was disgusting and wrong in everyones' eyes, and the usual person he would talk to about this sort of thing was his twin brother. Fred could just imagine telling his brother about the dreams; it was as if he were already looking at the other teen's disgusted face. No, that was definitely not an option. He could not tell Lee either; he would be just as disgusted and he would probably tell George about it.

It was possible that maybe he would not be able to make the dreams stop. Fred could live that fact; it was not the worst thing in the world. If he could keep his whole world normal except for his dreams then he would still be okay. After all, he could always just refuse to sleep, or take a dreamless sleep potion. It was considerably better than the other options, which were to confess to George and lose the most important person in his life or to run away and never see George again, thus losing his twin again.

Carding his fingers through his hair, Fred's gaze turned to find George's sleeping form on the other side of the room. It was an unbearable temptation, and slowly he lowered himself onto the floor. His toes curled from the cold and silently he padded over to the other bed. As usual George's hair was an utter mess and it stook in all different directions on the pillow he was sleeping on. He was curled up against the pillow, his face scrunching for a moment before smoothing out again. The rise and fall of his brother's chest, those little noises George made as he dreamed were like quiet reassurances to him, and Fred nodded determinedly.

"I will not let you down, George, I promise."

A/N: Hooray! The first chapter is finally written, and I know it is sort of depressing but that's okay. I put this under the genre 'drama' for a reason, afterall. It is just so sad that Fred is pining after George and he thinks that he will lose him if he says anything, and it sorts of amuses me that during this George is just totally out of it, probably dreaming about corn or baloons or something that does not make any sense at all. I would like to give some special thanks to my bestest friend LarLarLemonbar for helping me out with this one and hopefully she will continue to help edit. Read and review pretty please and please point out anything we may have missed while editing! (I just can not stand having grammar/writing/spelling mistakes in something that other people can read.)


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Hello there, readers! This is the second chapter of 'I Promise' here, AND it has only been a few days! I am trying to be really strict with my schedules so that I actually KEEP UP with this fanfiction rather than letting it completely die the way I have let the follow two or three. I am already beginning to lose inspiration, though, and it really sucks because I have a feeling that in a few days I am not going to want to write chapter 3 to this story. Sorry everybody, at least I am warning you that the end may be nigh!

Special thanks to my friends Lauren, Dan, and QuartzPassion who all helped me with the editing of this chapter!

Disclaimer: This story contains non-graphic twincest, slash, maybe some violence, cursing, and overall wangst. Then again, it is slash in the drama section, so what did you really expect of it?

I do not own any of the characters or back story to this, this is all J.K. Rowling's magical, wonderful doing. I only invented this story line.

Early morning sunshine filtered through the twins' curtains, sending shafts of light down onto George's face. The teen grunted unhappily and turned his back towards the window, but falling back asleep now was a hopeless cause. His mind continued to drift in a fog of half-wakefulness and the remains of a dream itched at the back of his conscious; the blur of a person, and muffled, serious words. It was a peculiar feeling, as if he had somehow forgotten something important that had happened while he had slept, but the more he tried to focus on it the more it seemed to slip away from his memory. He breathed a frustrated sigh when he realized there was no way he would remember it, and he stood and shook himself out in an attempt to literally shake off the feeling.

"Fred I had the weirdest-" he began before his eyes landed on his twin.

Fred lay sprawled across his bed on the other side of the room, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. Lazily, George loped over and leaned over his twin's shoulder to peer down at the page.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Homework." Fred answered quickly and he snatched the paper out from under his twin's nose and under a textbook. George's eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"But...but why?" he gasped. He could not help but be completely aghast at this would-be blasphemy. Normally, Fred would not have done his homework until the breakfast before the first day of classes, yet now he was doing it with still plenty of time remaining? George was utterly baffled.

"Because it is due in a few days."

"But you NEVER do homework at home!"

"Well, I am doing it now!" Fred snarled impatiently. George recoiled immediately, hurt displayed across his features. He and Fred rarely fought, and even on the rare occasion that they did, it was never so harshly. He did not understand how he had managed to make Fred so mad without even knowing he was doing it.

"W-why are you cross with me?" he stammered unsurely and took a few steps away from his twin for fear he would turn the argument physical.

"I am not." Fred grumbled.

"But you–"

"I am fine!" he exclaimed loudly, "Could I just have some space to myself for five bloody minutes?"

Stunned, George's jaw dropped slightly. Fred had actually shouted at him, as if he were their mother scolding him. It was unfathomable, and George's stomach wriggled upsettedly as he returned to his side of the room with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. At this rate his day was going to be complete shit. He just hoped that his twin's mood was improve as the day went on, or else they would both be in a foul state by the end of it.

"Boys!" their mother screeched up the stairs, "Breakfast! Do not dally, your food will get cold!"

The house was swelteringly hot to the point where it seemed like even the walls were sweating. George wondered how the food could possibly get cold. If anything it would probably just end up even hotter than it had been in the first place.

"Just a minute, mum!" he called.

Fred bolted out of their bedroom and down the stairs before George could even finish speaking and he stared after his twin for a moment in surprise. The teen snatched a shirt from his drawer, wrestling his way into it as he rushed down the stairs.

The small kitchen table was teeming with food of every kind; toast, eggs, juice, bacon, sausage, and he could see his father piling pancakes onto his plate. The very sight of it made his appetite plummet through the floor. Fred was angry with him, the world was supposed to stop and explode at times like this!

"How about this heat? I can not say we have had a summer like this since before Percy was born!" Molly exclaimed. She busied herself with piling George's plate high with most of the food displayed on the table, and he grimaced at the sight.

"It is unbearable! I was reading this article at work the other day about a muggle device called an," Arthur grappled with the pronunciation for a bit before finally saying, "'air conditioner'. Apparently they can cool an entire home within a few minutes with just the use of this elekitty stuff! It is absolutely fascinating!"

"Ee-leck-triss-ih-tee, Mr. Weasley." Harry corrected quietly, obviously trying to hold in laughter.

"Yes, yes, that was what I had meant." Arthur agreed cheerily. Percy snorted rather disgustingly on his eggs and rolled his eyes at his father's behavior. George pushed his plate away from himself, too upset to eat. He had completely lost the urge to continue with natural body functions.

"You are awfully quiet this morning, dear. Are you feeling alright?" Mrs. Weasley coddled Fred and pressed her fingers to the boy's cheeks to check and see if he had a fever, but he simply brushed her off.

"I am fine, mum. Merlin's pants, I do not talk for a few minutes and suddenly the world is ending!" he muttered angrily.

"Do not get your panties in a twist, Fred. No reason to be mean to mum just because you're in a foul mood." Percy snapped. Fred threw down his fork and knife onto the table and stormed back up the stairs. A few moments passed before the door slammed so hard that the breakfast plates shook.

"What is wrong? Did something happen between you two? George, did you make Fred eat his own underpants again?" Molly shot him a stern look, obviously thinking it was the latter. George shrugged weakly and averted his gaze from his family's inquiring looks.

"I do not think so. He was acting like this when I woke up." he murmured under his breath.

"Probably some girl. Remember how grumpy Percy used to get about girls around fourth year?" Arthur asked. Harry and Ron snickered as Percy's ears turned a bright scarlet.

"Dad!" he exclaimed.

"Well, you did!" Mr. Weasley argued defensively and tucked back into his food.

"That is enough, all of you! George, dear, if you are not going to eat then just go get ready. We are going to get you all your school supplies today." Molly told him. George nodded obediently and trudged up the stairs to his room.

"And tell Fred to stop acting like such a prat while you are up there!" Ron called after him.

When George stepped into his room, Fred was curled up on the bed with his face hidden in his knees.

"Fred?" he asked quietly. He knew that he should worry about him, but George was currently more worried that he would get his head bitten off if he said anything. When he received no response, George side-stepped around the bed as much as he could to get to his side of the room. He rummaged through his school papers in search of his materials list.

"What are you doing?" Fred asked in a small voice. George kept his eyes on his things and continued to search, not wanting to spook his twin.

"Trying to find my supplies list. Mum says we are supposed to go to Diagon Alley today."

Silence fell like a death shroud over the room, and George scrambled to think of something to say. But what was there to say? What in the world was he supposed to say to his brother who currently seemed to hate him to make everything better? The only options that he could think of were to either tie him down and force him to admit why he was upset, or to force him to eat his own underwear again like Molly had said. George was really leaning towards the latter idea.

"So, um, are we still supposed to meet up with Lee today to get our stuff? It feels like we have not seen him all summer." George commented in a forced tone. He sounded falsely casual, even to his own ears.

"Oh, I think so," Fred murmured, "I know what you mean. I never realize how much I miss him until we are half way through the summer and I realize I can not sleep because he is not snoring like some kind of dying bear in the bed beside mine."

George chuckled quietly and his mood lifted at their successful bit of conversation. At this rate he might even find out what was wrong before they went to meet up with he crossed the room, sitting down on the end of Fred's bed. The other boy, having tensed sharply, pulled his legs in even tighter against his chest like a shield.

"I know that you are cross with me, Fred-"

"I am not angry with you." Fred muttered quickly. He picked at the leg of his pants and did his best to avoid George's gaze.

"Well, something is wrong then. If you are not mad at me then what is it?" he asked. A growl in exasperation when he was once again faced with silence on the other boy's end. "Why ca you not talk to me? We always talk, you have never been secretive like this before. I do not understand what has happened. You were fine yesterday!" he exclaimed. Fred had the grace to look guilty as he was admonished.

"It is nothing really, I have been...I have been having a hard time sleeping lately. I keep having...nightmares. It is embarrassing, I do not want to talk about it." he muttered under his breath and pulled at his ear the way he always did when he was nervous.

"Why did you not just tell me?" George breathed, "What are they? What is wrong? You know if you have a bad dream you can always just get in with me; it is not as if I am going to judge you about it."

"No!" Fred exclaimed loudly, and his cheeks flooded bright red. When he noticed the way George's eyebrows had raised, he shook his head slightly to calm down. "S-Sorry. I just...I do not want to talk about it."

"But if they are bothering you then you should."

"Just drop it, George, alright? I don't want to share this one for once. Can you not just respect that?" Fred sighed. He sounded more tired than he did angry, and quietly he collected his books back into his trunk. "Did you find your supplies list?" he asked quietly. George shook his head no, and without another word Fred tossed his paper onto the bed in front his twin. "I will just get a copy from someone else or something."

George's chest felt warm and fluttery with the knowledge of his brother beginning to let him in again, and he had to bite his lips to keep from saying something completely idiotic.

"We might as well head down now, it sounds like mum is getting the fire place ready." Fred commented.

"The fire-breathing dragon?" George joked, and he was thrilled to see the small, weak smile he received in return. He stepped forward, hugging Fred firmly around the shoulders for a moment. He noticed the way the boy instantly grew completely still in his hold but chose to ignore it, for Fred's sake. "You know you can talk to me whenever you need me, do you not?" he asked.

Fred pushed him off, turning to head for the door. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Jeez, no need to get gushy." he muttered gruffly. George snorted in offense and punched Fred on the arm.

The family was piled in around the run down fireplace when they entered the living room, nicknamed the Fire-Breathing Dragon because of all the soot that surrounded it, and the twins slipped in at the side of the group so that their mother would not notice.

"Stop shoving!"

"Your elbow is in my rib cage, Ron!"

"Sorry!"

"All of you, calm yourselves down, everyone will get a turn to go. Honestly, you would think this is the first time we have been in a floo." Molly shouted over them. She moved them all aside and stepped in front of the fireplace.

"Alright, have you ever used the floo before, Harry?" she asked. The dark haired boy simply shook his head, and she quickly went into a tutorial of how to use the floo.

"Percy, you go through first since you are the oldest. And do not run off straight away either, do you hear me?"

The older boy just rolled his eyes and took a handful of floo powder. He stepped into the fire place, wrinkling his nose down at the soot before he dropped his floo powder. "Diagon Alley!" he stated in a loud, clear voice. Spinning, green fire engulfed him and soon Percy was gone, leaving just the slow drifting of ash in his wake.

Next was George, and he repeated the process much the same. He was soon in Diagon Alley, and he stepped away from the fireplace to make room for the next person who would be sent hurling through the floo system.

"Comeon now, I have not got all day..." Percy muttered in irritation, and George sneered at the other boy.

"What, is Penelope waiting for you?" he teased.

"Oh shut up you-"

Fred appeared only second afterward, looking between the two brothers for a moment. Almost immediately he took off sprinting down the street in the opposite direction of them.

"Fred! Mum said to wait for her! Get back here!" Percy shouted, "Merlin's beard, what is wrong with him today?" George bolted down the road after his twin, attempting to catch up. Ignoring the sound of his older brother shouting after him he followed Fred around a few corners, but he was too slow and soon George found himself alone in the street. He slowed to a stop, panting harshly as he scanned the crowd of students that bustled around him for his brother.

"Fred?" he shouted, looking around, "Fred?" He was greeted only with silence and he sighed softly. What in the world was Fred's problem today? It definitely seemed as if he was doing everything in his power to avoid George. He ambled slowly around the side-walk, still hopeful that he would catch sight of a a familiar mop of ginger hair, but he had no such luck.

The sign for a second-hand book shop hung down in front of him advertising in large, gold lettering 'The Best Used Textbooks Around'. It was probably about time to actually pick up a few of his school supplies, considering that was the reason he had come to Diagon Alley in the first place. The teen stepped into the shop and smiled politely at the ancient woman behind the counter.

"Is there anything you need help finding, love?" she asked. Her voice was crackly and rough, like some 90-year-old chain smoker.

"Um, yes, actually. Do you know where I could find," he paused to look over his book list, "Gadding With Ghouls?"

"Gadding with Ghouls, eh? I have read that one, that Lockhart sure has an exciting life. I suppose /you/ are using it for school or something?" she asked.

George flashed a guilty smile and nodded. "They are more of my mum's sort of book."

"Hey, do not knock something until you have tried it. They will be back over there. Just shout if you need anymore help."

George muttered a quick thanks before ducking his head and heading over to the section. The shelf was packed with books of all different size, color, and author and he groaned lowly in irritation at the challenge finding just this one would be.

"Gadding with Ghouls, Gadding with Ghouls, Gadding with Ghouls...Where are you?" he muttered under his breath. His freckled fingers walked up and down the spines of the books and he caught sight of a promising 'Gad' titled book. Strained upwards, George whined as he continuously fell short of grabbing hold of the book. An unfamiliar hand reached up and snatched it just as his fingertips brushed against the spine for the dozenth time, and George let out a yelp of surprise. He spun around only to be faced with a soft, rather nice-smelling Puddlemere United t-shirt. It rose and fell deeply, and for a moment George wondered if he recognized this strange clavicle he had his face pressed into.

Hesitantly he tilted his head up to see an unfamiliar, older boy. The stranger was at least a head or so taller than him, with a warm, friendly face and wavy, golden hair that tumbled over his forehead. For a moment George simply stared as if hypnotized before he managed to return to reality.

"I-...I-...Sorry!" he exclaimed, wincing as his voice cracked girlishly.

The boy chuckled quietly and looked amused at George's complete humiliation. "It is fine." the stranger told him smoothly.

George burned with envy of how suave the boy seemed, and silently he wished he could be the same way. His fingers lifted to touch his own embarrassed blush and fruitlessly tried to cool off his cheeks as much as he could without being ridiculously obvious.

"You were looking for this?" The boy held a slightly worn copy of Gadding with Ghouls, and George smiled brightly.

"Y-Yeh! Thanks. Some of us are not giant enough to reach the books on the high shelf." he commented, and shot the blonde a teasingly dirty look as he took it. The stranger just laughed, and George found himself noticing how nice of a smile it was.

"Eh, you will grow some day." he teased with a smile. The older boy took a step back so that he was no longer pinning George up against the shelf and looked the small, red-head over. "You are George Weasley, right?" he asked.

George sighed quietly with relief at the much needed space that was now allowing him to think like a normal human being. He rose an eyebrow in confusion at the way his stranger seemed to know him. "Yeah...how did you know?"

"Well, your hair tells me you are a Weasley," the older boy commented with a cheeky grin. George blushed and stuck his tongue out at him, "Hey, it is not my fault your family all has the same color hair!" he continued,"Besides, McGonagall is constantly harping on about the pranks you and your brother play on her." He put on a shrill, stern impersonation of McGonagall, raving on about missing toilet seats and drawings of explicit materials on her front board.

The younger boy beamed with pride, his chest swelling with glee at the knowledge that his name had traveled to every year and house in Hogwarts. Had he known when he and Fred pulled the pranks that they would lead to encounters like this one, he may have done worse tricks more often.

"She is quite fun to prank..." he conceded, "Her face gets all stony and bright red like she is either going to explode or kill me or something. On the one hand, it is absolutely terrifying, yet on the other you just want to laugh."

"That does not sound like much fun..." the stranger commented dryly.

"Oh, but that is where you're wrong, er...I am sorry, but, I do not know who you are..." he added, feeling embarrassed and wringing his hands together.

"Oh, sorry. I am Cedric, Cedric-"

"Diggory! You are Cedric Diggory?" George exclaimed. He was thrilled to actually know who he was talking to, and even more thrilled about who it actually was. The girls in his year were all constantly gushing on about the oh-so-handsome and oh-so-dreamy Cedric Diggory. He never had a clue who they were talking about, other than the guy played Quidditch, but now that he did...he had to admit that he could understand where they were coming from. Cedric was a bit on the dreamy side, what with the tall stature and the wavy hair, not to mention that he had a nice laugh. George shook himself, blinking in confusion at the strange turn his own thoughts had just taken. Had he just said another bloke had a nice laugh? There must have been something in the drinking water; everyone was going loopy today.

Cedric laughed and ruffled the back of his hair sheepishly. "Yeah, that is right. How do you know; has McGonagall been telling stories about me as well?" he joked.

"Oh, no! You are not nearly bad enough for that, " George assured, "It is just that, well, you are the seeker for Hufflepuff, of course. I just never really saw your face up close before." Thankfull the lie was smooth, and he shrugged his shoulders to seem nonchalant.

"I hadn't thought of that. You're a really good beater, y'know." Cedric murmured in a quiet voice. George felt as if he had been eating a bucket of warm, gooey sunshine instead of half a piece of toast, and he tried to force the feeling away by coughing loudly into his elbow. Unfortunately, it didn't work, and in so he bit his lower lip sharply to try and regain some self control. For a moment they stayed in nervous silence, neither of them knowing quite what to say to fill it, and George pulled at his sleeves to try and keep himself calm.

"Well, I-I had ought to be off now, my brothers are probably looking for me," he muttered, "It was nice meeting you, thanks for the help with the book." George snatched his list from the shelf and nearly tripped as he went flying toward the door to flee from Cedric.

"I will see you around, George!" Cedric called after him. The younger boy's ears were burning like fire and he knew that they must have been bright red, but he still turned and nodded fiercely in agreement before rushing out of the book shop and down the street.

It was only once he was half way down the street did George realize that he had the goofiest grin plastered across his face and he had left the textbook on the shelf. What was the world coming to?

A/N: Aw! I have to say, I did not expect to love the Cedric x George pairing so much, but it really it just so adorable in my mind. Maybe Iwillmake them endgame, even if I do have crazy love for twincest! Okay, this chapter had a lot of love put into it, so I would REALLY appreciate some reviews, please! I will try and update by the weekend, but it may not be until next week if I am being really lazy! (Sorry about the awkward proper language; I got rid of the contractions because I needed this to be 6,000 words so I could beta. :D)


	3. Chapter 3 LOL, I suck

Hi there,

I know that no one follows this story, but I figured I would just say that this story is closed for the moment unless I suddenly get the urge to write Fred x George again. I have issues with continuing stories for any real length of time, so for now I am going to try and stick with one shots. I really hate writing anything that I am not completely obsessed with at the time, so, unless I write an entire story all at one time when I am obsessed with it, it does not ever get writtenh Furthermore, at the moment I am on foreign exchange in Austria for 10 months, and thus I do not have a super large amount of time for writing my own stuff. The writing time is fine, but it takes me a while to think up plots and normally I think of them really late at night, and at the moment I am never up at that time ,so...yeah. I am really sorry to anyone who favorited this or was hoping to read more, but once I lose the urge to write a story I really can not make myself be assed to bother with it. However, that being said, if you REALLY like it, though I highly doubt that is the case, feel free to PM me and we could roleplay it or just attempt to bother me as much as possible and maybe I will just write it to get you to shut up. xD. Thank you for those who reviewed, alerted, or favorited and once again, sorry for dropping yet another of my stories (Lol-this is like the fourth). I really do not know why I keep trying to author these; it never works.

On a side note, I would /love/ to beta anyone's stories. I have always loved editing/reading stories much more than actually writing them, so if you need a beta pretty please send me a PM and I would love to betaread it for you. I promise I am not as much of a flake as my fanfiction updates make me seem! (: Also this story is only 5,000 or so words and I deleted my others, thus I am not trying to write this really long author's closing to get me to 6,000 words so I actually am allowed to be a beta. If only I had just written one more chapter. -sigh- I don't understand why in order to qualify as a beta one must have published five stories or 6,000 words. There are plenty of people who have written over that amount who would be terrible betas while others, like me, who are actually quite good at edited, just aren't that interested in writing and thus theoretically can't be betas. Ah, but don't worry for me, imaginary readers, I have gone back and extended a few parts as well as added to my author's notes, thus leaving me with 6,000 words. Take that, , I /insist/ upon being allowed to be a beta. I think I deserve it because I had considerably more than 6,000 words but I didn't know that it was necessary ot have published a certain amount and then deleted my old stories. , I PUBLISHED 6,000 WORDS IN THE PAST, IT COUNTS.

Anyways, now I'm just rambling to up my wordcount, so I'd better go. Love you all who tolerate my ridiculous writing habits,

Cheers


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